


nova

by ashinan smut (ashinan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Coming Untouched, First Time, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-07 00:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16843759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan%20smut
Summary: Shiro hasn't gotten off in more than a year; Keith breaks him in





	nova

**Author's Note:**

> written for the beginning of season 7 when shiro is still without his arm. I really wanted to write a first time with keith that is legit shiro's actual first since he 'died'. special thanks to Colie for being PHENOMENAL and looking over the final draft before okaying it all. here is [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijgg8FW_ENw) I was listening to on repeat while writing this. enjoy, dahlings!

The quiet glow of the Black Lion’s lights offers little reprieve from the hammer of Shiro’s thoughts. Keith still hasn’t said anything, looming over him in quiet contemplation as he draws strong fingers down the center of Shiro’s bared chest, through shadows left by raised and torn flesh. Scars Shiro doesn’t remember getting; or, well, this _soul_ doesn’t remember getting. All the scars are in the wrong place now. Shiro swallows. Tangles his fingers in the sheets as he squirms under Keith’s scrutiny.

“This okay?” Keith murmurs, gaze flicking up to catch and hold Shiro’s own. His fingers pause just above Shiro’s nipple, pressure, pressure, and Shiro shudders out an affirmation. Keith smiles. “Tell me if it isn’t.”

Shiro won’t, because it never will be an issue, because the way Keith _looks_ at him snags like a hook behind his ribs. The want in Keith’s gaze, the bare need in his every motion, settles Shiro’s churning stomach. Keith’s touch lightens, flirting around the sensitize perk of Shiro’s nipple, before he swipes his thumb down. Shiro swallows a groan. Touches Keith’s knee. Sighs out a breath when Keith leans forward to take Shiro’s mouth.

Keith starts slow, fingers creeping up Shiro’s throat to cradle the line of his jaw. Shifts deeper when Shiro squirms. Turns filthy when Keith rolls his hips, fucks his tongue into Shiro’s mouth like a prelude to the main event, fingers fisting in Shiro’s hair to hold him steady. The keen is unbecoming, he knows it is, but _Stars_ he wants this. He needs this. The tremble of his skin can barely contain the sheer emotion budding in Shiro’s chest; he’s never been so furious with the confines of his own body.

“Slow,” Keith whispers as Shiro shivers beneath him.

Impatient, Shiro nips at Keith’s mouth. “I don’t want slow.”

With a hum, Keith brushes his lips against Shiro’s jaw, down along the tremble of his throat until he sets his teeth against Shiro’s pulse. Shiro’s heart thrums in his ears. He digs his fingers into Keith’s skin, into the lovely muscle of his shoulder blades and the sharp divots of his spine. Keith chuckles. Rubs his tongue against the fury of Shiro’s pulse and bites and sucks a brand into the thin skin there.

It shouldn’t undo him like it does. It shouldn’t cause his thighs to tense and his cock to jerk. But that symbol of possession quakes through his very essence and draws a ridiculously embarrassing moan from him, high and desperate. His knees come up as he rocks against Keith, blessed friction and weight and _Keith_. Keith continues to mark him, draws another bruise up with a _pop!_ of his lips, and Shiro nearly shakes to pieces beneath him.

“ _Keith, Keith, please_ ,” Shiro whimpers, clutching, the phantom crawl of his missing right arm viciously present as Shiro fights to pull Keith closer.

“Slow,” Keith repeats, maddeningly, as he bites at the bump of Shiro’s clavicle. “I want to learn everything.”

“I haven’t had a physical dick in a year, Keith,” Shiro deadpans. Keith raises a brow. “You can’t come in the astral plane. Black would’ve killed me.”

Keith snickers, shattering the sexy atmosphere with a cutely bunched nose and the crinkle of his eyes. He laughs harder when Shiro thumps him on the back in feigned annoyance. At the edge of his awareness, Shiro catches Black’s snooty affirmation that if he’d tried such a thing in the astral plane, she would’ve ejected him immediately.

Rolling his eyes, Shiro wraps his arm around Keith’s side, spreads his fingers as wide and far as he can along Keith’s skin. He wants the weight. He wants Keith to blanket him completely and cage him in, a second layer to the shiver of fragile skin that pinches unnaturally. This isn’t his body. This has never been his body. He’s starlight and disease and infinity stretched and pressed.

Impossible spacedust locked into a foreign plane.

A hand against Shiro’s cheek, a thumb against the swell of Shiro’s bottom lip. “Come back to me.”

“I’m here,” Shiro whispers. Keith brushes a kiss against his nose, the bump of his scar, and then pulls away.

The loss of weight is almost visceral. Shiro knocks his knees up behind the arch of Keith’s spine, presses his palm warm and big against Keith’s stomach. Keith smiles. “Let me.”

“Let you what?” Shiro asks, distracted by the bunch of muscle beneath Keith’s skin.

“ _Let_ me,” Keith repeats, hooking his fingers in the elastic of Shiro’s boxers. Shiro swallows. Keith’s pupils dilate. With an explosive exhale, Shiro drops his knees. When Keith shimmies off Shiro’s lap and takes Shiro’s boxers with him, Shiro closes his eyes. He’s throbbing, messy already from just a few simple touches and Keith’s ridiculous mouth. Spreads his thighs without prompting. Twitches when Keith nudges his thighs wider with firm fingers, need prickling over Shiro’s skin in rivets.

“I want to learn everything,” Keith whispers against the crook of Shiro’s knee, against the soft inside of his thigh and the crease of his groin. Shiro shivers and whines. Arches when Keith draws his thumbs down his sides. Giggles when Keith finds a particularly ticklish spot he doesn’t remember ever having. Breathes out in bliss when Keith laps over the scars on his ribs and keens when Keith fiddles with his nipples.

Kissing against Shiro’s belly button, Keith says, “You’re so sensitive.”

“I’m not used to being corporeal,” Shiro manages, eyes fluttering open. “Everything feels brand new.”

“Brand new, huh?” Keith bites at Shiro’s hip bones. _That_ action, that pulse of possessive heat that floods through Shiro, is impossible to ignore. Shiro palms down his stomach toward the twitch of his dick but Keith catches his fingers, and holds him still.

“Keith, please,” Shiro whispers. Keith sprawls between the lewd spread of Shiro’s thighs, cheek against his belly and mouth _so close_ to where Shiro needs it. Wants it. “ _Fuck_.”

“Not yet,” Keith teases, snickers as Shiro pushes up on his elbow to stare down at him incredulously. When Keith brushes his thumb against the base of Shiro’s cock, Shiro flops back down with a barely restrained groan, slinging his arm over his eyes as he falls into the sensation. It’s been so long. So, so long. He hasn’t had a physical dick for a year and hasn’t had a hand on it in almost longer.

Keith draws his fingers lightly up the underside of Shiro’s cock, ending at the leaking slit and just applying a pressure so sweet Shiro wants to cry. Stars, he’s a mess. Ready to burst from a single stroke - no, not even a stroke. A touch. Shiro grits his teeth and stills his hips and surrenders to the tease of Keith’s touch.

With an almost deliberate twitch of his thumb, Keith strokes the tight bunch of Shiro’s balls and kisses the head of Shiro’s cock. That’s enough. That’s - more than enough, really. Sensation thunders through him, so similar to manifesting in the astral plane, a tug molten and furious and so good he can barely breathe. He squeezes his eyes shut, toes curling and thighs quaking, the twist of his fingers in the pillow cramping his palm. The echo of Keith’s name lingers in his ears when they stop ringing.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Shiro gasps. Keith pins Shiro’s thighs to the bed, laps at the head of his cock over and over until Shiro’s stuttering and pleading and _wanting_ but not sure what. Just more. More of that pull beyond his skin, more of that echo of the stars in his bones and time flowing within his heart. More of Keith’s hot mouth stretched over him, sinking low and swallowing, as Shiro shakes and shakes and shakes.

There’s nothing to ground himself in because Keith stubbornly keeps him strung out, hands solid and warm and _holding_. Shiro swallows a wail but Keith drags it out of him anyway. It’s too much. Shiro winds his fingers in Keith’s hair, tugging, and Keith groans and sucks harder. This can’t - he can’t - oh, Stars, he _can’t._ His back arches, hard. His lips part on a keening plea. Heat pools and thickens in his stomach until it spreads fast and shaking through his thighs. Everything tingles and sparks like static. Keith pulls back with a sinuous curl of his tongue, gaze bright and fierce and impossibly proud.

“You - oh.” Shiro pants. He blinks. Blinks again. Keith slides up his body, grinning so wide and pleased with himself that Shiro can only stare. “That was - oh.”

Keith nips at his chin, soothing the small spark of pain with a kiss. “You’re no longer brand new.”

Shiro snorts, delightfully smitten with Keith’s smug preening. His body still sparks with aftershocks. Burying his fingers in that shock of black hair, Shiro tugs Keith down and close, kisses him until their lips are bruised and his heart kicks up again. Keith’s boxers had slipped during his slide up Shiro’s body, the head of his dick rubbing filthy against the crease of Shiro’s thigh.

Tilting his hips up, Shiro gets a leg around Keith’s hip so they can grind together. He’s messy with spit and the wet slide of Keith’s cock and it’s euphoric. Exactly what he wants. Keith gets his knees under him and hitches Shiro’s thigh up higher, until his dick is catching on the sensitive twitch of Shiro’s balls. Down further when Keith shifts again. The first catch of Keith’s cock against Shiro’s hole is maddening, Shiro losing his breath on an explosive exhale of Keith’s name.

“ _Yes_ ,” Shiro hisses, arching his back and bucking up. Keith kisses him silent, kisses him bruised and wanting and keeps up that mimicry of a hard fuck that is so much less than what Shiro wants. He wants that push and burn, to stretch around Keith’s length until he’s nothing but sensation and need and so full he could cry. Keith bites at his mouth. Wets a kiss on Shiro’s jaw and cheekbone and the corded line of his neck.

“Please, Keith, please,” Shiro pleads.

Keith growls against his throat, slowing his thrusts. Shiro whines. “We don’t have anything.”

“Wait, wait.” Shiro throws out an arm, fingers groping for the edge of the bed where he’d stored his prize. Triumphant, he holds up a vial of clear liquid, beaming when Keith eyes him incredulously. “Kosmo is a gift.”

Keith’s lips part in amazed shock. “You had my _wolf_ get us lube?!”

“Of course I did.” Shiro works off the stopper with his teeth before holding it out to Keith. “It’s not like I can go vaulting around to the different Lions without raising suspicion. I told Kosmo what I wanted and he went and got it.”

“You used my wolf to get lube,” Keith says faintly. He’s still rubbing against Shiro’s ass, almost subconsciously, and it’s driving Shiro a tad insane. He wiggles. Keith bites back a moan. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Think ahead? I want you to fuck me until I can’t think of anything but you.” Shiro nuzzles against Keith’s cheek, cants his hips up so Keith’s dick catches on his hole. “I want you to stretch me open, get me all wet and ready, and make me yours.”

Another stutter of Keith’s hips before Keith fists his hand in Shiro’s hair and kisses him hard and mean, fucks his tongue in and devours Shiro whole. His hips push rough against Shiro’s ass, leaving smears of pre-come along his skin in sticky trails. His other hand catches the vial before Shiro drops it, lost in the fierce possessiveness of Keith’s teeth on his bottom lip and the sharp tug of fingers in his hair.

As Keith pulls back, tongue slick over the bruised swell of Shiro’s lip, Shiro stutters out: “How do you want me?”

Keith draws a thumb over Shiro’s shivering pulse. “I want to see your face.”

Biting down on a groan, Shiro nods, throwing his hand up to brace against the wall as Keith shuffles back. His half hard cock plumps when Keith slicks a palm over it. Supporting Shiro’s ass on his thighs, Keith thumbs against Shiro’s knees until he gets the message, arches his back and spreads his legs, shivering with the strain. Keith hums appreciatively. Draws warm fingers down the quiver of Shiro’s stomach and against the bump of his hipbones. Down, down, until he’s resting a thumb against the base of Shiro’s cock. Shiro swallows a moan.

“Still feeling new?” Keith asks.

Grinning breathlessly, Shiro says, “Break me in again?”

A snort escapes Keith before he dribbles some of the lube on his fingers, smearing the rest on the lewd spread of Shiro’s ass. The chill startles him, has him squirming even as Keith forces him still with a warm palm and two fingers tapping against his hole. Sensation ricochets through him, tugs at the oversensitive tingle of his skin until he’s prickling all over. A purple dusting catches the edge of his vision as Keith eases in the first finger, a steady, unrelenting pressure that unravels him from the inside. He’s hard again, smearing against his skin, and it should embarrass him, should have him garbling apologies, but one glance at Keith’s blown open expression shuts that all down.

Another finger follows the first. Pressure, pressure, and Shiro catches his heels on the bed and bears down. Keith groans his approval, rubbing his thumb against the stretched wet rim of Shiro’s hole. Adds more lube as he fucks in his fingers slow and deep.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” Keith whispers into his skin, bites the words into the soft skin of Shiro’s inner thigh. His wrist twists, fingers curling, fucking deep and slow with each push of his hand. Shiro gasps at the ceiling. Knees shaking, abs quivering with strain, cock resting wet and red against his stomach. When Keith drags the pads of his fingers over Shiro’s prostate, Shiro stills. Arches his back in surprise and need and -

Keith shuffles back, enough that he can push into Shiro’s space without qualm. With a flick of his tongue, Keith gets his lips around one of Shiro’s nipples, and bites down. The shock of pain followed by the overwhelming pressure against his prostate punches the air out of Shiro’s lungs in a drawn out, alarmingly loud moan. Keith smiles. Wets his lips against Shiro’s skin and teases the tightened nub with the same ferocity that he rubs his fingers against Shiro’s prostate. Merciless. Impossible to get away from. Against the small of Shiro’s back, Keith’s dick rubs filthy and wet. Another finger works in after a particularly devastating rub, and Shiro squeezes his eyes shut on a keen.

“Nope,” Keith says, blowing cool air against the spit slick shine of Shiro’s skin. He flinches. Keith spreads his fingers. “Eyes on me.”

“Keith -” Shiro starts, but Keith raises a brow and drags the flat of his tongue against Shiro’s nipple. “ _Keith!_ ”

“Eyes on me or I won’t let you come again.” Keith draws his fingernails down the curve of Shiro’s thigh, catching the back of his knee and forcing his leg up, pushing him wider, removing all control Shiro might’ve had. Not that he wants it.

Panting, Shiro opens his eyes. Keith grins and corkscrews his fingers in. Lights burst along the edge of Shiro’s vision. His cock jerks hard, dribbling pre-come over his hip and into the sheets. Keith watches, catalogues. Tears smear Shiro’s gaze into a pleasure hazed painting. He’s tingling all over, sensitive like never before, and he honestly has never come untouched, but it’s a definite possibility right now.

“Keith, _Keith_ , wait,” Shiro manages, nails clawing at the headboard. Keith stills immediately, fingers pulling back until they’re just barely sitting inside Shiro’s rim. The stretch is _insane_. Shiro wants them back inside immediately, misses the fullness with an ache that twists his stomach. He whines. Flexes his toes. Keith waits.

When Shiro doesn’t speak, Keith kisses the stretch of his thigh. “Too much?”

 _Yes_ , Shiro wants to say, _but I need more_. Swallowing, Shiro reaches. Keith reacts, carefully removing his fingers from Shiro’s hole and sliding along Shiro’s entire body until Shiro can get his fingers in that glorious hair. The kiss that follows is slow but filthy, Shiro wrapping his legs as high around Keith’s waist as possible. Keith rubs their noses together before fisting his clean hand in Shiro’s hair and holding him still, deepening the kiss, overtaking Shiro completely, while lube slick fingers follow the curvature of Shiro’s spine.

Completely covered like this, wrapped around Keith as much as he can, Shiro pants out Keith’s name. Says it again when Keith slicks their lips together, drags his tongue over the sensitive upper palate of Shiro’s mouth, bites a bruise into Shiro’s bottom lip. When he pulls back, it’s a moment before Shiro can open his eyes.

“Fuck me,” Shiro begs before Keith can distract him again. Keith groans, head bowing, as his hips fuck forward. The head of his dick catches on Shiro’s wet rim, thrusts through the mess of lube but not in, and Shiro arches best he can. Digs his heels into Keith’s back and pulls. Demands as much with his body as he can while chanting Keith’s name.

Keith runs a shaking hand down Shiro’s thigh until he can grip his ass. Kisses Shiro hard and wet until they’re lined up and ready, and then fucks forward. Shiro’s slick, wanting, and Keith slides in that first inch with a hitching breath and Shiro’s wordless gasp urging him on. Gripping Shiro’s ass and the arched line of his back, Keith rocks back and then forward, fucking in deeper with each sinuous roll of his hips. Fucks Shiro open on his thick cock and Shiro can barely catch his breath, panting a series of swears and wordless pleas.

With one last rut forward, Keith sinks in, an explosive groan shaking through him. Shiro tangles his fingers in Keith’s hair again, slams their mouths together as his body pulses and squirms around the intrusion, oversensitive and impossibly turned on. He’s full, almost to the point of too much, Keith’s dick hot and thick and settled in deep. He’s so close to the precipice that if Keith even _thinks_ of touching him, thinks of shifting or pressing deeper or, Stars forbid, pulls back, Shiro will come. He knows he will. He whimpers and bites at Keith’s mouth, words garbled as pleasure blankets his thoughts. Keith shifts his knees under him and gets that last inch, slapping them together in one thick slide, and Shiro howls his pleasure.

He’s so fucking full, stretched wide, blanketed by Keith’s heat and muffled by Keith’s mouth. His cock jerks, his knees draw up higher, and when Keith rotates his hips in a dirty grind, that’s that. Shiro bites at Keith’s lips, whimpers and shakes apart with a sobbing cry, tears rolling down his cheeks. Keith groans against his slack lips. Settles his knees in the mattress and pulls back. Shiro claws at Keith’s neck, gasping, wet and unbelievably oversensitive, but when Keith snaps his hips back in, it’s good. It’s so, _so_ good.

“ _More_ ,” Shiro breathes, chokes, and Keith moans his name. He picks up a rhythm, fast and sloppy, pulling back more each time only to bottom out in a thick, impossible slide. Shiro’s riding that knife’s edge, teetering between too much and not enough, his body still bubbling with orgasm sensitivity. Tears smear his eyelashes together. His exhausted dick jerks with each hard pump of Keith’s hips. He can barely hold himself up, sagging into Keith’s hold.

Dragging his teeth along Shiro’s jaw, Keith shifts. Immediately, the plush head of his cock catches on Shiro’s prostate, sending Shiro into a damn fit as pleasure rockets up his spine, and removes all coherent thought. Clinging in sudden desperation, Shiro pants out a long ‘ _Yesssss_ ’ and Keith picks up on it immediately. Adjusts his hold on Shiro’s thigh. Bites a bruise into Shiro’s throat as he starts fucking in with a goal in mind. Shiro can only hold on. His thoughts are wordless static, glimmers of purple starlight flitting around the edges, his body a mess of nerves and pleasure and infinity stretched wide.

As Keith’s pace grows erratic and fierce, Shiro’s fucked through to the other side, drowning in pleasure until heat starts to quicken in his blood. He groans in distress. Keith bites at his shoulder, at his clavicle, sharp teeth pricking the skin. Pain mixes in with thickening want. Each drag over Shiro’s prostate, each agonizing slap of Keith’s hips, each messy rub of Shiro’s oversensitive dick against Keith’s abs, hurtles him towards an impossibility.

“I can’t, I can’t, _I can’t_ ,” Shiro chants. Fists his fingers in Keith’s hair.

Snarling wordlessly, Keith bites at Shiro’s ear. “You _can_.” And fucks in hot and thick, rotates his hips like he’s desperate to get deeper, and Shiro shatters. His ears pop. His back bows. His shout ricochets off the walls, crescendos into a proper wail while Keith fucks him through it. His vision blurs, tears smearing and falling down his jaw, as he rides that wave. He’s clenching around Keith’s cock, hole fluttering against the harsh fuck of his hips, thighs quaking. Keith’s so good to him. So, so good. Fucks him so well and fills him like no other.

He barely catches the tail end of Keith’s orgasm, jerks as warmth fills him, as it pulses over his prostate. Keith’s hips stutter. Shiro whines, entire body a tangle of sensitivity. He blinks against the spots in his eyes. Drops his head against the pillow with a shuddering exhale.

Keith’s hips still work, shuddering little hitches that punch small groans from Shiro. He can’t hold them in. He’s so fucked out that his muscles have rebelled. Keith sucks and bites at his throat, at his pulse, and Shiro shivers. His fingers smart from where he’d fisted them in Keith’s hair. Gently, he untangles them and pets over the sweaty mess of Keith’s fringe, thumb trembling as he brushes it down Keith’s flushed warm skin. Keith groans weakly. Shifts his hips enough to yank another involuntary whimper from Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, voice shot. Keith glances up, gaze hooded and completely blissed out. He pushes up on shaking arms. Shiro draws his palm down Keith’s cheek before resting his fingers on Keith’s bottom lip. Keith licks at his skin before bowing forward, kissing Shiro from behind his fingers, and Shiro snickers.

Gently, Keith pulls out. Wincing, Shiro slides his hand down to his sore hole, rubbing against the slick stretch of it. Stars, he’s still shaking, every atom of his body and soul blown open. He slips two fingers inside with a quiet groan and Keith bites his lip, pausing from where he’d been pushing up.

“You can’t just do that,” Keith says, running a messy palm down Shiro’s stomach and over the wet smears of come on Shiro’s skin. His dick has officially tapped out. Keith continues his trek until he’s rubbing against the stretch of Shiro’s stuffed and shivering hole. “We should clean up.”

Shiro swallows. Everything is closing back in again, shuffling him back into place, and Shiro aches. He wants - he wants to ride that shattering explosion, wants to throw his entire being wide for Keith to use and fuck and love. A third finger sneaks into his hole. Keith swallows a groan and their gazes meet. Shiro parts his lips on a shuddering exhale.

“You’re going to kill me,” Keith whispers.

Shiro grins, blissed out and pleased. “Gotta make sure I’m broken in, right?”

With a snort, Keith crawls back up the bed and settles between Shiro’s loose thighs. His fingers join Shiro’s in playing with the sensitive stretch of his rim. When Shiro squirms, Keith kisses him until he’s nothing but pleasure and starlight and Keith’s all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> since tumblr is a nightmare, please follow me on [my nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/assinan13?s=09) for all your porny needs


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